I knew two things earlier this week, as Dundee held us to a goal-less draw.
I knew they would lost at Ibrox, probably heavily, and I knew that we would go into Sunday’s game knowing that a win would leave us one match from the title. I should have taken Hearts to win today; it seemed like a certainty. When I heard McInnes talking big the other day, about how confident he was that his team could maintain the second spot, I knew it was.
I am not going to accuse Derek McInnes of sabotaging his own club to give Sevco a pass to the second spot. I am going to accuse him and his team of being the biggest bottle merchants in Scottish football. They get vertigo every time they edge in front.
When a chance to put some daylight between them and Sevco arises they crash.
McInnes is useless, he really is. A serial failure at Aberdeen, he has a solitary League Cup to show for years of toiling when it counts. If Aberdeen harbour any pretensions of being Scottish football’s second force, never mind challenging us one day, they need to dispense with the joker in the dugout. Many of their fans saw the collapses against Sevco earlier in the season, when he seemed on his way there, as evidence that his time at their own club was finished.
Believe me, few of them were dancing in the stands when he stayed.
Aberdeen’s performances against all of the top six have been pretty shameful, but the abject, almost craven, surrenders against Sevco are the most obvious manifestation of it. There is an outside chance that Hibs may pip both of them to the second spot – I hope they do.
That means there’s an outside chance that it’s Aberdeen, not Sevco, who might end up fourth.
They cannot rule that out. There’s a very real chance of it, and it surely would make the club’s choice an easy one. He may yet end up at Ibrox, and they might not even have to pay compensation for him. I hope he does, because he won’t last 12 months.
He shouldn’t last much longer at Pittodrie. As long as he is there, that club will bang its head against the glass ceiling.
It’s becoming clear, in fact, that they are a team going backwards under him. Underachievement is their watchword. There’s not a yard of guts at that whole club, except in the stands, where the fans know this guy isn’t good enough, where they know their chairman lacks the balls to challenge the status quo and where the long wait for a team that they can trust with the legacy of Alex Ferguson goes on and on and on.
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